Hello, world! This blog began on September 28, 2007, and so far nobody has come looking for me with tar and feathers.
On my honor, I will do my best not to bore you. All comments are welcome as long as your discourse is civil and your language is not blue.

8 comments:

Somewhat disturbing, rather riveting, most definitely entertaining. Poor Mr. RWP. I do think you should move to a farm, milk a few goats, can some pineapple and read a good book. Then these 'alternative' sources of entertainment will not so readily overtake you.....Unless....could it be that Mrs. RWP is actually one of those dancers???? ;-)

Hi there, Hilltophomesteader, up after midnight are we? (Or maybe the 12:18 AM tag is Eastern time zone, which would be, let's see, only 9:18 PM in Pacific time zone, making my question nonsensical and superfluous....)

Actually, I grew up in the country in Texas on three acres (my dad worked at an aircraft factory near Fort Worth). On one side of us was a 40-acre farm and on the other side was a ranch of several hundred acres. The smaller place had pigs and goats and a few dairy cattle and one large Brahma bull. The larger place had many, many head of Hereford beef cattle which frolicked and came right up to our fence. We had chickens and, for a while, a horse and a pig, also a lot of fruit trees and a half-acre vegetable garden. I have milked a goat in my day, and helped can a number of things (but never pineapple), and watched my dad kill chickens for us to eat. I definitely have read a lot of good books. Currently I am in the midst of The Best American Short Stories of 2003.

Oh Comrade Bob, don't those crazy Russians know how to have fun! Your growing interest in Russian life and culture could land you a prime role with the CIA...unless of course you are a "red under the bed"!

Silly Pudding, I mean silly Pudding, I certainly don't have a "growing interest in Russian life and culture" and what color I may or may not be under, on, or over the bed is none of your business! I'm just sayin'.../signed/ RWP a.k.a. The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze

What about the Tuva posts? I know your denial is driven by the knowledge that Big Brother is tracking all of our emails and internet activities. Do you wear a leopard skin leotard on the trapeze? (Coded message)

My Other Blog Is A Rolls-Royce

About me

has lived on earth for 75 years and has been married for 53 of those years to Ellie, his wife. They have two sons, one daughter, the appropriate assortment of in-laws, and six absolutely magnificent grandchildren. He enjoys reading, playing the piano, driving in the country, sitting by the ocean, watching birds fly, gazing into a roaring fire, holding his wife's hand, and spending time with his grandchildren. He doesn't like doing yard work, walking a dog who definitely is not in the mood, or cleaning up after one who is (RIP Jethro, 2004-2013).

Me, circa 1943

A few months before this photograph was taken, I fell through a hole in a chain link fence in New York City and landed on my head on a school’s cement playground that was six feet below sidewalk level. I had a brain concussion. Some people think this helps explain why I am the way I am today. Other people insist nothing can explain why I am the way I am today.

Poem by a Yorkshire Lad

Song for Lost Youth

Perhaps I should have cradled it
Like a dove
Kept it safe with tender love
But I squandered it -
Gushing-blundering-raging
Like a wild mountain stream
Desperate for an ocean
That was but a distant dream.
...I just never thought
That I could have loitered in the shallows
Reflecting the blueness of the sky
- Concealing silver fishes
- Quietly biding my time
- Stretching it out.
And so, and so it's gone now
- My ephemeral youth
- That precious once only gift
- That honeyed sweetness,
Leaving only the trembling resonance
Of distant echoes
From half-remembered hills.

(Neil Theasby, 2013. Used by permission.)

Me, circa 2010 (with Mrs. RWP)

A reader in Oregon has requested a current photograph. For the thick of skull, I want to say that I am not exceedingly tall nor is Mrs. RWP exceedingly short. She is sitting in a chair; I am standing behind her and slightly to her right, your left. I am nothing if not thorough. Handsome and thorough. Exceedingly intelligent, very handsome, and thorough. I forgot humble.